Make of Me What You Will
by DBZchic
Summary: Summary: The Mary Sue of Mary Sue’s is in this story. Don’t know what a Mary Sue is?? She is the perfect female character. In this case, she and Vegeta await their parts to arise for the next fic. Only, this Mary Sue is fed up, and *blink* Vegeta


Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ, if I did, it would suck. hehe. I am no genius; Akira Toriyama however is. There is no way I could ever compare, I mean just look at how much Funimation screwed it up.  
  
Without further interruptions....  
  
Make of Me What You Will  
By: DBZchic  
  
  
  
She was so damn perfect it was sickening to her.  
  
Never mind the fact she had hair which flowed down her back like a sparkling silver waterfall, with every strand in place, a modern day Leonardo Da Vinci creation in life. Or large crystalline eyes which had the ability to peer into a man's very soul and instantly capture his undying love and devotion. The impressive part was she could do it faster than the time it would take a fly to be crushed by a 747 Jumbo Jet landing right on the unfortunate little bugger's head (and oh, she hated to think of the cruelty to that fly; since she was also the being harmoniously aligned with every spirit in the universe). Her body was flawless, to call her a Super Model would be a gross understatement; each of her curves flowed in exactly the right anesthetically pleasing place. Her breasts were the size of ripe melons that could have grown from the brightest of springtime fields.   
  
And her beauty wasn't just on the outside either. She had wit to match a Irish bartender, style to rival the most refined of aristocratic ladies, humor that could be dirty or light, love that was all knowing and all forgiving. Yet if an innocent bystander, love interest, or a comrade of her love interest was threatened she could easily defeat any foe, after a bit of melodrama of course.   
  
Yes, not even the combined forces of Cell, Majin Buu, Frieza, Dr. Gero, or any other evil villain that had ever-threatened Chikuu could ever defeat her. She could draw her power from a star, the solar system, galaxy, or even the entire universe if decidedly necessary. Even without that remarkable talent, her power level was well over anything a Saiyan could mark.   
  
Yet, she could never use this power for evil, only good. After all, she was Maria Susana, the Mary Sue of Mary Sue's. A goddess of peace and enlightenment, capable and built only to love that Mr. Right. A person of integrity and beauty--she was perfection, plain and simple.  
  
Maria, however, was not enjoying it.   
  
Especially now, looking at that supposed Mr. Right. He sat there, snarling, on top of a lonely gray rock. A black mane rising up proudly. Dark black eyes which pierced fear into many. A body a woman would die for a chance to have one night with this man. Just to soften his scowling demeanor a little. Tame the wild beast, the king of the jungle.  
  
He was just the kind of man for Maria, according to every writer who had ever used her. Placed themselves into a world they could only dream of through her. Her hair might change, her eye color may be altered, but it was all the same. She was their portal, their window into the unattainable.  
  
And it was beginning to drive the poor girl insane.  
  
Just once, she would like to experience a defeat, not counting the horrible death that would befall on her to make the story come to the most climatic ending as possible. Leaving the men she seduces to be either insanely lonely, or extremely hell bent to do good in her name. Even if she died in one story, she'd be resurrected in another. Forever reincarnated into a world of insane perfection.  
  
She sighed resignedly and walked next to him. Never mind this man had a family in the real story line; no one ever seemed to care about that. She would seduce him, his children would be mysteriously missing from this alternate life, and they would fall purely, madly, deeply.   
  
He looked up to her and sighed. "Hey Maria."  
  
"Hi Vegeta."  
  
He turned his head to study her. "Silver hair?"  
  
She nodded. "This particular author has a flair for silver hair."  
  
"Looks like crap."   
  
They stood together silently; enjoying the few quiet moments before the story would begin. Before the world would be in jeopardy, and she and Vegeta would have to save it while trying to deny their 'feelings' for each other. Such was this one's plot.   
  
The Prince turned to her, a smirk on his face. "What's your name this time?"  
  
"Salena, I believe," Maria shook her head, elegantly of course, before continuing, "you know, sometimes I just want to scream and scream."  
  
"You?" He raised his thick eyebrows. "Job getting to ya?"  
  
She nodded again. "I hate this. Why do they wish for this? A great adventure before an extremely boring life filled with no problems? Problems are exhilarating, wonder gifts that make life worth living! You can't even have an adventure without serious danger, but they always make me immune to all that. It's not fair!"  
  
"OF COURSE IT ISN'T BAKA!" Vegeta yelled. "You are their dreams, you express their wishes, you provide what they need to feel like life isn't a big pile of shit. That tomorrow will be better. Without you, no writer would get started, and then where would we all be? Stop whining about it. Except it. That's your problem. That's your damn adventure."  
  
"But, everyone ends up hating me! I'm a sign of immature stories, dull plot after dull plot. Sure, a promising author comes along every so often, with a new twist, but it's all the same. Readers hate that, and they end up hating me." Maria broke into tears. "I just don't think I can do it anymore. I'm supposed to be loved, not hated!"  
  
Suddenly, she was aware of a sharp sting on the side of her face. Her head jerked to the side. Maria was stunned, and couldn't move for a few moments before turning to face Vegeta again. Of course, because of her handy dandy healing factor, the red mark was gone barely before it had even became pink. She swallowed back the rest of her tears. "Don't be such a weakling, it isn't your style. Who gives a damn what the readers think. You're here more for the writer than they are; the readers are OUR concerns. Be you Bakayaro, enjoy the sex with me, and get over it."  
  
Maria continued to sniffle, but smiled slightly. "Thanks. I needed that, Vegi-chan."  
  
Vegeta growled menacingly. "Don't call me that outside of the fics. Now," he motioned to the edge of the forest of dreams, "Let's get this crap over with. I have a bone to pick with that damn Kakarotto, and I hear this author intends to let me get some kind of half-assed victory. Kami only knows how."  
  
"OK." Maria smiled at him, only to have him growl back. Finally, the word processor portal was turned on, and together they walked into the flow of imagination.  
  
  
Authors Note: I used to be like tons of readers out there who really despised the next Mary Sue story, until I began writing stories myself. Suddenly, I discovered most of my own female characters were Mary Sues themselves. At first I was horrified, but then, many years later, I realized that all of my old friends, named Mary Sue were really parts of all of us, and all of our characters because they are the embodiment of our imagination. Now I believe that Mary Sues ever really go away, just kind of grow up. Like we do. Sorry that this is so short, but I do hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.   
  
I dedicate this to all my Mary Sues: Petunia, Saraca, Jenny, Klemena, Delilah, and so many others. Thanks for all the wonderful stories, even if they were shallow. Hell, I liked them, and that's what is really important :)  
  



End file.
